Traces of Scars
by Blythe Flynn
Summary: [COMPLETE!]Mandella's POV...a witnessing of pain brings her back into an old habit. someone leaves, but she can't tell a soul. an unexpected relationship twinge occurs... please leave a tasty REVIEW! thanks...
1. Prom

_Traces of Scars_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters depicted in the movie 'Ten Things I Hate About You'. Touchstone pictures does, although I truly wish that I could have been in that flick…*swoons* Oh, and I also do not own 'Dancing in the Moonlight' by Toploader…

**Author's Note**… Here we go with a lovely 'Ten Things I Hate About You' fiction! The pairings might be a bit different than you expect, but nonetheless, I still hope you enjoy it! This chapter begins during the prom, right after Kat ran off upon finding out that Patrick had been paid to take her out…this story is written from Mandella's POV…(she is the brunette Shakespeare-crazed friend of Kat…) this chapter is dedicated to all my great reviewers! Thank you guys! You are the reason I keep writing! Enjoy! 

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**Chapter One**

'_Dancing in the moonlight,_

_Everybody's feeling warm and bright,_

_It's such a fine and natural sight,_

_Everybody's dancing in the moonlight.'_

The music resounded in my ears as Michael leaned in to me and began to speak.

"Mandella, you are such a smooth dancer…where did you learn how to glide like that?" Michael was being so sweet to me, asking me all about myself and treating me like a real Shakespearean princess.  That's never happened to me before.  I was so tight with Kat, that I never really noticed guys, I figured that if they were interested in me before, they sure as hell wouldn't be as soon as I started hanging with Kat.  I think people thought we were lesbians or something, chilling with each other so friggen much.   But I just thought that no guys liked me, and I almost wanted them to stay away from me. 

            "I used to be in ballet and ballroom dancing," I replied to answer Michael's question, "but I never thought I'd get a chance to use those skills." I think I blushed a little _'oh God, Mandella, stop smiling like an idiot!  _But then my smile fell when I saw Kat out of the corner of my eye.  Her face was flushed and she looked awfully pissed at something, most likely the guy following her out of the room, Patrick.  God Patrick, what have you done now?  

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By the time I hacked the crowds of girls touching up their make-up in the bathroom, I though I was going to burst.  Finally, a stall opened up and I hoisted up my dress to, um…well, you know!  Anyways, I was just sitting there, when the bathroom got quiet, I could tell that most of the primping girls had left, to my surprise, and I was alone, except for someone sitting in the next stall, but I could only see the bottom of a dark blue dress, no feet, so I was guessing it was some upset girl sitting on the tank and trying to figure stuff out.  Then I heard a gasp and I saw a red droplet hit the floor and puddle out.  I couldn't believe what I was witnessing.  I was seeing someone cut themselves, and I didn't know what to do.  What could I do?  I quickly did up the hooks on the bodice part of my gown and flushed.  As soon as I had washed my hands, I bolted.  I didn't even bother to use the air dryer, I just had to leave. I couldn't deal with what was going on in the next stall. It had been so long since I used a sharp that I knew that I needed to just stay away from it. 

Michael was waiting outside the bathroom door, waiting for me, what a sweetie. I told him I wanted to go home, I was tired. '_Liar'_ I called myself under my breath. God, Michael knew I wasn't tired. But he didn't press the matter and he just drove me home, so no matter anyways. He dropped me off at my mother's apartment and didn't even say goodnight. He just dumped me on the doorstep. I think I upset him. 

"Michael," I called out at him just before he turned the ignition, "I honestly had a good time tonight. You were a true Prince Charming. I am just trying to work some stuff out now, that's all." He didn't say anything in return, he just backed out of the complex parking lot.

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A.N…soooooo….have I intrigued you even a little bit???  I sure hope so! But don't forget, I need feedback in order to continue! So let me know your thoughts!__


	2. Notes and Calls

Chapter two…

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the events or characters depicted in the movie '10 things I hate about you' but I do, however own the plot… *Muahahahaha*

**Author's Note: **Ok, here we are at chapter two, this is where my plot really is going to start coming in full throttle…but don't worry, I will still stick to the movie for guidelines, and also the story will go farther than the movie plot tells us…Dear God, I am so glad that they didn't make a sequel for that movie, I think I would have to hate it! Anyways, thank you very much to my reviewer: YourWinter06! I really appreciate your comments on my piece…it gives me a reason to keep writing…this chapter is also dedicated to my friend Tanya…Tanya, you will most likely never read this story, but I want you to know that I love you, and I really want your wounds to heal. Both physically and emotionally. Now on with chapter two!

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I got into my mum's apartment and locked the door, and then I went to the refrigerator to grab a bite, and I saw a note on the fridge door:

            _'Della, I've gone to stay with your Auntie Lynn for a while. I need to figure out some stuff with her.  Don't worry; I'll be back when I can.  I will be sending you a cheque every couple of weeks. There is an envelope in the third drawer down.  There is fifty dollars in the envelope.  It should last you till I send a cheque. You're a big girl, and this will give you a chance to grow. I do love you, and I will see you when I can. _

_            Love,_

_Mother'_

Well, I suppose the benefit of this…situation is that I get the house to myself.  But on the other hand, I could be really screwed.  But she didn't say that she wouldn't come back, she probably just needs a break from things. 

            So after I ate some toast, I picked up the phone and dialled up Kat.

*BRRRINGG! BRRRINGG!* It only took two rings before Bianca picked up the ruddy phone.

            "Hello? Hello? HELLO?!?!" I didn't want to talk to Bianca, especially after the whole Joey Donner incident (still can't believe she fell for that bugger), but if that was the only way to in contact with Kat, I would swallow my bitterness and talk to her. 

            "Bianca, it's Mandella.  Is Kat there?" I said as humanly as I could.

            "I dunno.  Why do you want to talk to her?" God, I hate that whiney voice.

            "Let's think, Bianca.  Kat is my friend.  I am Kat's friend.  I need to talk to her.  Now." I must have sounded commanding enough, because Bianca cut the crap and brought the cordless phone to Kat.

            "Kat?"

"Yeah," she said monotonously.

"Kat, what's wrong?  You left the prom all upset, I'm pretty sure you were mad at Patrick.  What did the bastard do?"

"God, Mandella, you don't even want to know about this time." I was right, Patrick **did **screw things up.  I knew it.

"He was paid to date me, Mandella. Joey Donner paid him to take me out so that he could get his greasy hands on Bianca.  Damn, I though that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't a shrew for once.  Dammit, Mandella, you and I were fine being bitchy and our own personality, but then Patrick came and messed me up.  And just when I was enjoying and getting used to being messed up, I find out it was all just a scam.  He's not worth it, but crap, Mandella!  He lied to me for so long!"

"He's a scumbag.  Sure, maybe it was good while it lasted, but you shouldn't have to put up with these games.  Drop-kick him off a bridge if you get the chance, otherwise, just generally avoid him." I hate giving advice.  I suck at giving advice. 

"Whatever, that jerkoff will just have to deal with me." And after Kat made her last statement, I heard the phone click down. I didn't even get to tell her about mom leaving. Oh well, I'll just have to talk to her tomorrow, give her some time to simmer down.  I would have called her back, but someone was pounding on my door. 

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A.N….have I pulled you into the beginnings of the plot yet??? I hope so, but I desperately need more readers and reviewers! So please, leave a review to let me know if I should write more!


	3. Ten things I have to say

Chapter three

**Disclaimer: **I do not own 'Ten Things I hate About You!!!' Ok, let that be all I say in the disclaimer!

**Author's Note: **At last! I have four reviews! (even though they are only from two people, I still appreciate them!) I feel like I have accomplished something, even if only a couple people read it consistently. A couple of notes to my faithful reviewers:

            YourWinter06: you have been faithful with your reviews right from the beginning. You have no idea how valuable your opinion is in the aspect of my writing. I appreciate you and your reviews to no end.

            Neerah: You have just begun the saga of this story, but already I can sense a faithful reviewer coming along. I'm glad you jumped on the bandwagon with this one, I also am so grateful to you. You have no idea how grateful… 

            Well, the time has come for this tale to continue! This chappie might be a longer one, as I want to include something rather big from the movie, so I can really get on with MY plot…but I can only do that if I get a rather long time on the computer, so we'll have to see…also, some of the events might be a little different from those in the movie…please forgive me, I'm not going to get anal about details here.

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I walked over the intercom and asked who was there.

            "It's Michael."  God, Michael. I didn't feel like talking to him, but I couldn't push him off again, so I buzzed him in.  

            "Mandella, I'm so sorry.  I was an ass.  I shouldn't have just driven off.  You were upset and I just realized that I shouldn't have assumed you were mad at me.  I couldn't simply go home and not sort things out with you.  what's wrong?"

            "Michael, um…uh, I was just worried about Kat. She left the prom early, and she seemed mad at Patrick."

            "And was she mad at Patrick?" Damn, Michael, you're too sweet!

            "Well, it turns out that Patrick was **paid **to take Kat out. Paid by Joey 'eat me' Donner.  Doesn't that make you sick?"

            "Yeah.  It would really burn me if it wasn't for these circumstances."

            "What are you trying to say, Michael?" I was starting to get even more stressed out at this point.

            "Mandella, promise me you won't be mad and you'll try to understand.  You know my friend, Cameron? Well, he has the major hots for Bianca Stratford.  We got Joey to pay Patrick to go out with Kat because the only way Bianca was allowed to date was if Kat dated.  We though that Patrick was perfect for her.  But after he started dating Kat, he genuinely started liking her." God, I knew Bianca had **something **to do with this fiasco.

            "Anyways, I talked to Cameron before I came over here and he said that Bianca, him and Joey got into a huge fight and now Bianca is dating Cameron.  Now that Joey's out of the picture, Patrick isn't getting paid anymore.  But Patrick is still interested in Kat, he's falling in love with her.  I hope you believe me, Mandella."  Well, at least the guy tells what I hope is the truth.

            "I don't know what to believe anymore, Michael. I am really confused. How do you play into all of this? No wait, I don't care or even want to know.  Just please, please, hold me, Michael."  It didn't take a moment for him to answer my pleas, and he sat down on my couch with me in his arms. I accidentally let a tear slip down my face and a shudder in my shoulders broke loose.  I was scared about what Michael would think of me.  He's only ever seen me as tough, badass bitch.  What am I now?  But Michael saw the tear and he brushed it's trail with the tip of his finger, stroking my cheek gently. Then, as I was caught off my guard, he leaned in to kiss me.

            "Please go.  I'm sorry, but please, just go, Michael. I need to be alone awhile." He didn't ask any questions.  I could see the hurt look in his eyes, and I had to glance away.  I didn't need the guilt. 

            "I'm sorry, Michael, I'm just not ready." He just looked right at me and left. He closed the door with a timid 'click.' And he was gone.

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Later, in English class, we were told to stand and read our sonnets aloud.  Damn iambic pentameter, it's easy enough for Shakespeare, but not for me.  Nobody wanted to read their sonnet, until Kat stood up, surprisingly enough and delivered hers:

_'I hate the way you talk to me   
And the way you cut your hair.   
I hate the way you drive my car.   
I hate it when you stare._

_I hate your big dumb combat boots   
And the way you read my mind.   
I hate you so much it makes me sick --   
It even makes me rhyme._

_I hate the way you're always right.   
I hate it when you lie.   
I hate it when you make me laugh -- Even worse when you make me cry.   
I hate it that you're not around   
And the fact that you didn't call.   
But mostly I hate the way   
I don't hate you --   
Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all. '_

At the end, her voice quavered and she had to leave the room, with Patrick following close behind her.  I had to stay in the English classroom till dismissal, but afterwards, I walked with Kat to her car, and there, sitting in the front seat was the most glorious guitar.  From Patrick.  For her band.  And then, lo and behold, the devil himself comes waltzing up to Kat to beg for her forgiveness.  

            "God, I've been such a prat.  Can you forgive me?" Damn, he can be pretty sweet when he tried. 

            "You know, you can't just buy me a guitar every time you screw up." She replied.  I could tell at this point that she wouldn't be mad for long. 

            "Well, I figured I could get you a drum set, keyboard and maybe someday it'll advance to a tambourine!" and then the distance between them closed as he drew her in for a kiss.  It's actually really hard to watch someone kiss and not feel a twinge of jealously, especially when the last guy who tried to kiss you, you smacked down.  God, the guilt is getting worse!  I really should call Michael, but I don't know what to say. 

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There! We've reached the end of that chappie and the movie material…time to move on to my original plotline! Are you excited! Feel free to show your vast enthusiasm in a review or 8! *muahahahaha*


	4. I just want you to know who I am

**_Chapter four: I Just Want You to Know Who I Am_**

**Disclaimer: **you know the drill, I don't own the characters depicted in the movie…touchstone pictures does…but now that I have gone through the plot used in the movie, I can move on to my **own **plot…are you excited???  Oh, and I also do not own the lyrics  (or music, if you can hear it in your head) to the Goo Goo Doll's song 'Iris'…God, I love that song, I just had to stick it in here somewhere!  And I guess if you're going to be **really **particular, I don't own Kraft Dinner, either!  Arg, I also don't own the A&P food chain!!!!!!  That's it!  If you find anything else, go discuss it with my lawyer!!!!

**Author's Note: **As I write this, I actually have no idea where this chapter is going. I only have a general idea, so bear with me! Also, I would like to show my immense appreciation to my faithful readers: 

**Neerah: **your reviews are so valuable! I am so glad that I have reached all the way to Sweden with this story!  If you want to tell your friends about this story, that would be cool… :o)

**YourWinter06: **haha, when I reviewed your story, I had no idea it was you, as I forgot to read the penname…sorry for being a dolt.  I have no idea where you are located (safety, I know) but I am glad that I have reached you! Also, if you wanted to get your connections to review this story, that would be cool… :o)

And to all those who are reading this and not reviewing (if anybody is doing that) please, just take the time to review…it would be nice to know how many readers I have…also, if anybody would like a cameo appearance in one of my stories, that could be arranged….but you've got to tell me in a review! (can you tell how desperate I am…I must be a life-less wonder… :o)   )

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Well, it was good to see Kat and Patrick make up with each other.  But I really am cautious around that guy…he smells like trouble.  I think that's why Kat likes him, but man, that guy has screwed up way too many times.  I think she should drop him if he pulls any more crap.  Although, the whole 'singing in the bleachers' moment **was** one to treasure forever.  God, moments like those.  Like when Michael got me that dress.  Michael.  I need to talk to him, I can't keep blowing him off forever. 

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            After I Kat dropped me off at home and I put on my old Goo Goo Dolls disc, I went over to the fridge to grab a coke. God, the fridge looked rather empty.  More so than usual.  I knew I would have to go shopping.  

_'And I'd give up forever to touch you  
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow  
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be  
And I don't want to go home right now'_

The music crooned in the back ground as I made my shopping list: eggs, milk, bread, juice, Kraft Dinner, carrots, ranch, tomato paste, pasta.  That ought to hold me till mum's cheque comes along.  I locked the door behind me as I left with my shopping list in my pocket and my woven purse around my shoulder.  The walk to the local A&P  wasn't too bad, but I sure did miss the luxury of Kat's car…

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Weaving through the aisles, I managed to find everything on my list.  I saw Cameron at the check-out, and I asked him how everything was going with Bianca. 

            "Well, it's going great, we're having a blast together.  And I owe it all to Patrick, Joey and Michael.  How're things going with you and Michael?" I couldn't bear to tell him that I'd blown off Michael again, errr, twice, so I just said, 

            "Fine." And distracted him with going back to the topic of Bianca, as she distracts a lot of things…I knew she **had **to be good for something!

            "Yeah, so, do you have any future plans with Bianca, I mean, you'll be graduating before she does, how is that going to work out?" I was right.  That did distract him.  It distracted him enough that the cashier had to tell him three times that he owed $22.50.  After Cameron paid, and the slightly perturbed cashier began to ring up my shopping, Cameron finally answered my question. 

            "Well, some of the students are getting an opportunity to go overseas this summer.   They're going  to Munich for some sort of summer exchange program.  Bianca is going." Aww, poor guy, I didn't mean to do that to him… I think I should just let the subject go.  

            "Well, it's only for the summer, Cameron, and it will be really good for her to see the world."  It'll be good for Bianca to see some scenery besides the local mall.  As Cameron's blue and black backpack headed through the automatic doors, and I paid the cashier the $17.52, I went through the same automatic door and found a payphone.  I simply couldn't stay away from Michael anymore.  I had to tell him how much I really do care for him.  Public payphones are really repulsive, you know, so religiously grimy.  Gross.  After I dialled his number I waited for him to pick up. 

*BRRRIIINGG!* pick up the phone, Michael.

*BRRRIIINGG!* pick up the phone, Michael.

*BRRRIIINGG!* pick up the phone, Michael.

*BRRRIIINGG!* pick up the phone, Michael.

"Hello?" I finally hear his voice on the other end.

            "Michael, it's Mandella."

            "I need to see you, Michael; I need to talk to you."

            "Should I come over?" God, no, I couldn't let him know that nobody else was home, and nobody else would be coming home

            "No…could you meet me somewhere?"

            "Where should I meet you, Mandella?"

            "The park?"

            "Sounds great, I'll see you there in fifteen minutes."

            "Right. Fifteen minutes will be fine." 

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Walking down the busy streets, on the gummy sidewalk, I could still hear the reminiscences of 'Iris' floating through my thoughts,

            __

_'And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am'_

God, the lyrics kept making sense.  They flowed in and out of my circumstances like a vapour.  I couldn't tell anyone that mum was gone, and that I was alone.  I'm a big girl; I am supposed to be able to handle this stuff on my own, aren't I?

             Michael came up to me as I was sitting on my favourite park bench, the one with the small inscription on it that reads 

            _'To Emilie, who loved this bench, and for Joseph, who sat beside her.'_ The idea of that always catches my heart up in my throat. 

            "Mandella, talk to me," he said, pure sweetness was practically dripping from him.  Damn, that guy will always get to me.  He sat down beside me and I told him that I was scared to get into a relationship.  I told him that I never had been in a relationship like this one, because guys always saw me as 'scary.'  I told him that I was more intimidated by him than by anything else.  And you know what he did? He gently, his lips almost didn't touch the top of my head as he tenderly kissed it, holding me in his arms and rocking back and forth…

_'And all I can taste is this moment  
And all I can breathe is your life  
'Cause sooner or later it's over  
I just don't want to miss you tonight_

_And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming  
Or the moment of truth in your lies  
When everything feels like the movies  
Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive_

_And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am_

_And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am_

_And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am_

_I just want you to know who I am  
I just want you to know who I am  
I just want you to know who I am'_

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A.N. Well, now they are together….what's going to happen next??? Can you feel any tension mounting??? You'll have to leave a review, now won't you! 


	5. Double Date

**Chapter five**

**Disclaimer: **Anything in here that you find isn't mine, obviously ISN'T MINE! I give credit to those who created everything in this chapter that I don't own, i.e.: the characters, and  'Casablanca' among other things.

**Author's Note: **I realize that the previous chapter was somewhat…dull…and I sincerely apologize for that.  I hope you find this chapter a bit more…intriguing! And now for a little note to my reviewers for chapter three:

            _Steelsings__: _Ah, my dear…how I will miss you until we meet in the food court! *giggles at self* Thank you so much for your review…it was touching, because I never thought you would be jealous of me. Ever. I really, really, really was touched by your review, and also, I am SO psyched to see your hair…I'll see it on Friday, right? All my love…

            _YourWinter06: _once again you give me a reason to upload another chapter…I am so glad that you are getting into this story…are you prepared for it, though? Because some things that happen will (hopefully) surprise you.  I hope you like the twists.  Also, I am so glad that I found a fellow 'Iris' lover! Woohoo! 

            Now, on with chapter five!!!

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**_Chapter five- Double Date_**

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After I explained to Michael that I was hesitant to nose-dive into a relationship, he took things a lot slower and smoother with me.  He let me determine how fast we went.  It was me who suggested that we go on a double date with Kat and Patrick.  It was me who suggested that we go to see 'Casablanca' at the old movie house.  So on Saturday night, all four of us met up at the theatre.  Part of the reason that Kat and I wanted to see 'Casablanca' was to test our men.  Test them to see if they had the class to handle a classic old movie. 

            Once we had found our seats, my knight in shining armour (or should I say _amore) _took his noble squire Patrick with him to fetch us poor damsels in distress some buttery popcorn and Diet Coke.  I like the taste of Diet Coke so much better than the regular, because the regular is far too syrupy.  Diet is crisper.  Anyway, the movie started almost as soon as the boys got back to their seats. 

            I was shocked to see the guys actually getting into the movie, so I leaned over and whispered into Kat's ear "do you think they're actually interested, or are they just sleeping with their eyes open?" Kat concealed a laugh between her lips and whispered back "ask Michael, Mandella, and find out." 

            "Michael," I whispered to him, "are you enjoying this movie?"

            "Are you?" he asked…the fox.

            "Yes, of course I am, but are you getting into the plot?" I wanted an answer, and I wasn't about to take games like this for an 'answer'

            "Mandella, if you're enjoying it, I am enjoying you enjoying it.  I like anything you like" God, doesn't he know who **he **is?

            "Michael, if you don't like it, just say so.  You're entitled to have an opinion of your own.  Don't sacrifice your likes and dislikes for me.  I would rather you hate the movie than say you love it just because I love it." Michael didn't say anything.  He just sat stiffer in his seat, his fingers wrapped so tightly around his paper cup that it almost collapsed.  I didn't mean to make him angry, I just want him to be himself, not me.  But it got me to wondering that maybe he only pretended to like Shakespeare to get me.  God, I had to go to the bathroom, I needed to get away, so I grabbed Kat and we rushed to the washroom.  

            We were the only people in the bathroom, so when Kat went into a stall (she actually had to **use** the bathroom) I just told her what happened out loud, because there was nobody else there to overhear our conversation.  

            "Mandella, maybe it was just a fluke, you can't take everything out of context, but if you are right, I am going to seriously hurt that little boyfriend of yours." Even though the statement was a bit harsh, it was nice to know that somebody would stand up for me. 

            When Kat came out of the stall and began to wash her hands, it was like time had stopped and my eyes became fixated on one thing.  Her wrists.  Scabbed and scarred.  So it had been her sitting there in the next stall over at the prom, it was her blood that hit the tile floor so wretchedly.  It was been her wounds that I relived every night, wondering if I could keep from going back to my old habit.  It was her.  My best friend, and she never told me.  I couldn't stay any longer, so I mumbled something like "mmghGoodbyemph" and left the bathroom.  I had my coat and purse with me, so I left the theatre, too.  I knew Michael wouldn't care, as I had already pissed him off, and Patrick wouldn't even notice I was gone.  It was Kat that I worried and wondered about, but at that point it was too late to care. 

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The summer breeze, normally inviting, was chilling to my skin as I waited at the bus stop for the number 52 to come along.  I saw a safety pin in the corner, and I couldn't resist picking it up.  I couldn't resist opening the safety latch.  I couldn't resist letting the point prick my skin, over and over again until a small trickle of blood flowed.  Damn, I was back to my old habit, and I knew that once I started, I wouldn't be able to stop without help. Damn.

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A.N. Well, I know that chappie was a little morose, but I think you'll be able to get over it…don't worry, it has to get better! I also know that the chapter was rather short, but I didn't have much time for this one…please leave a nice, hefty review!       


	6. Not Enough

Traces of scars: chapter six

**Disclaimer: **you know the drill…I don't own the characters…but the plot is ALL MINE! *scampers off*

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the long wait, I was away…but now I am back! I have two more chappies after this one written, but I still need to type them up… but don't fret, you will see them soon! Notes to my kind reviewers:

            _MandELLA__: _wow, I really appreciate your thought out and well written review. Yes, I will admit, Mandella has changed quite a bit in my story, but I wrote it that way because she changed after the prom (she softened and tamed her rampant desires for 'William'…at least, that's what my twisted mind has contrived) but I truly am grateful for your detailed review and I hope to see another one soon!

            _Nauti__ Dolphin: _Thank you for YOUR review! I am glad to find yet ANOTHER 'Iris' and Goo Goo Dolls fan! Long live the Goo Goo Dolls! Your compliments and encouragement honestly mean a lot to me.

            _Steelsings__: _Why have you not been reviewing more, my pet?!?! (just kidding…we need to have lunch soon!) I am most happy-full with getting a luxurious review from you! We need to work more on our joint story!

            _YourWinter06: _my most faithful reviewer…your admiration and flattery are a wonderful gift…I am so bloody thankful for them! (your flattery and admiration, that is) your reviews make me upload more chappies!

And now, ladies and germs, chapter six!

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**_Traces of Scars- Chapter six: not enough_**

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My bus finally came lurching down the road and my shirt sleeve clung to my skin where my fresh wounds' red streaks seeped through the fabric.  My change clinked into the plastic box next to the bus driver.  His name tag read 'Earl.'  That's such a wretchedly unfortunate name.  there were only four people on the bus.  An old woman with baggy beige nylons bunched up around her ankles, a crisp, clean man in a sharp suit, a teenage boy from Padua with his headphones lodged in his ear canals (I hope his ears get really sore) and a pregnant woman looking as if she was about to burst.  I sat down beside the woman 'great with child,' and almost immediately she started chatting at me. 

"What are you doing out here alone at night?" she asked.  God, that woman was FAR too perky.

"I'm a streetwalker." I was feeling ornery and generally pissed off, so lying seemed to make sense. 

"Oh." She said, "is there much money in that business?" right, like she cared.

"I just make enough to pay my rent and support my heroin addiction." I was almost having a good time, poking with her.

"How nice. Well, here's my stop." I could tell she was starting to get uncomfortable, and I knew it wasn't her stop at all. Still, 'how nice?!?!' man, I've never been that trashed.  Can't be good for the baby, whatever happy pills she's on.  Some people are just too insanely happy!

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When the doors of the bus closed behind me and I walked over to the apartment complex, I began to feel oddly guilty.  I should probably call Michael and explain that I needed some time away.  Besides, summer had just started and I didn't need or want to be tied down.  I mean, Michael's a great guy, and he's really smart, but I don't see how we can be together anymore.  I'm glad I didn't let him kiss me.  It would have made it a lot harder to tell him.

            I got to my apartment door and tucked under the 'Come on in!' mat was an envelope with just my first name handwritten on it.  My mum's handwriting.  I began to read the note inside as I unlocked the door and shut it behind me. 

            _'Della, Dear,_

  _The cheque is in the top drawer in the kitchen. You know, where we keep the silverware.  It's not a lot, but it should hold you up until the next one. I won't be ale to come home as soon as I thought, I was hoping you would be home tonight, so I could tell you in person, but no matter._

_            All my love, _

_            Mum.'_

I walked over to the top drawer and saw a cheque made out to me for twenty-five dollars.  There was no way I could make it on a lousy twenty-five bucks.  But I guess I'd cross that bridge when I came to it.  I would skip out on a couple meals, that would cut down on costs a bit.  

            The nagging need to call Michael kept yanking at my thoughts.  I picked up the receiver, dialled and waited.  

            "Hello?" God, hearing his voice was making this harder.  I hung up.  Ok, then I dialled again. 

            "Hello? Mandella, I know it's you, I have caller ID."

            "I--" 

            "Listen, Mandella, I was  a horse's arse at the theatre.  What you said what right and true.  I don't think for myself anymore.  You keep lurking in my thoughts, and everything I do, you are in my mind while I'm doing it."

            "Michael, don't worry about it, but I—" he cut me off again.

            "No, Mandella, wait.  I'm not finished yet.  I've been putting this off for far too long.  You know how a group from Padua has been chosen to go to Munich, Germany? Well, I was on the waiting list.  I wasn't going to tell you till I got in, if I got in.  I'm in, though."

            "Oh." Wow, I didn't even need to tell him that we had to break it off.

            "and Mandella, I just think we should hold off for a while." Gosh, he was doing all the hard work!

            "Michael, when do you leave?"

            "Thursday.  That's the same day Kat is flying to the east coast to go to school.  I'm so sorry to be leaving you here, along with the Stratfords.  But Cameron and Patrick will be here, Cam is living and working with his uncle, and Patrick is taking a gap year, just like you.  you'll be fine for the summer, and then I'll be back.  Mandella?"

            "I have to go now, Michael." *click* I slowly put the receiver down.

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A.N. well, sorry for the long wait, but was it almost worth it? Don't worry, the story WILL have a reasonably happy ending, despite what these dismal chapters might suggest….please leave a review!


	7. The Well Has Gone Dry

**_Traces of Scars_**

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**Author's Note:** Sorry for the llllooonnnnnnnggggggggggg wait, everybody (even though I sincerely doubt that anyone is out there reading this…) this chapter was written in a 'sixpence none the richer' state, so please excuse my musings….

Oh! Thank you to Renee (I wish you had signed in, so that I could review you back!), Steelsings (let us commit a Polyam….hee hee!), Nauti Dolphin (where did you go?), MandELLA (so much for reviewing this story, eh??) and YourWinter06 (why have you stopped reading this??? Please explain) I value your reviews (whether new or old) very much… finally, the language in this and the next chapter will be somewhat stronger than the previous chapters, because the subject material is a bit coarser…

**Disclaimer: **yeah, yeah, I don't own the characters or the song 'Lines of My Earth' by Sixpence None The Richer…

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**Chapter Seven: The Well Has Gone Dry**

Woof.  After that ordeal I needed some ice water.  I pulled the Brita water filter out of the quickly emptying fridge.  Damn, I would have to go to the A&P…again.  I'd go the next day, who cares if it's open late, I'm too tired to go out again.  Absolutely wiped.  When my head hit the pillow I was already asleep.

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The next morning came with a vengeance.  My wrist was throbbing like a woodpecker digging into the flesh of the tree's bark.  But what is a little pain in the long run?  I had relief, escape, and if pain was the price to pay, so be it.  

            The prospect of going out grocery shopping was about as appealing as a sardine milkshake, but I knew that if I didn't go to the A&P, my fridge would only get emptier.  Damn eating.  Damn it to hell.  I wish I didn't need to eat at all, it would be so much easier.  

            I pulled the pillow over my head, begging it for a few more morsels of sheep.  It ignored my pleas and instead sent a demon to knock on my door.  It was my landlord.  I opened the door and groggily peeked out. 

            "Yes, Norman, what is it?" I asked him blearily

            "Where's Violet?" God, what do I say???

            "My mum's at work.  She left early."

            "When will she be back?" damn you, Norman.

            "Well, she's going to visit her great aunt after work." Great, my lies are going to catch up with me someday, but I might as well put it off for as long as I possibly can.

            "Where does this great aunt live?" Norman started to poke his bald head through the door frame, snooping around with his eyes.

            "Norman, what do you want, I can tell my mum later."

            "Missy, your mum hasn't paid any of her bills since May." May.  Prom night, to be exact.  

            "And you guys have till the end of the month to pay." Today was the 23rd.  I had a week to get the money.  Damn you too, mum. 

            "I don't want to evict you.  Your mum is always great to me…yeah, she cut my hair for free." Norman shifted his hips suggestively, making me wonder if perhaps my mum had done more for Norman than cut his hair.  My mother can be such a dirty whore.

            The tips of Norman's generously proportioned ears glowed pink as he left, reminding me that I had till the 30th to get the money in.  But maybe mum would be back by then.  _'Right, Mandella, and precious William is going to give up Anne Hathaway for you.'_  I had to laugh at my own ludicrous thoughts and ideas. 

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Twenty-five dollars to use.  It wouldn't be enough to appease the grotesque landlord, but it would be enough to buy groceries.  It would stave off starvation, but not imminent eviction.  Damn. 

I pulled my vintage Victorian lace shirt on and a pair of faded jeans. Good enough for the A&P crowd.

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             I took a light jog on the way to the massive grocery store.  It was a very light jog, as I don't like to run while wearing lace, but still, I wanted to get there quicker.  The words of the last song I heard on my radio kept repeating in my head.

            _'The lines of my earth_

_            So brittle and fertile and ready to die_

_            I need a drink_

_            But the well has gone dry.'_

_'Shut up, Mandella.  Those are the words of people who don't know thirst, and neither do you, so shut up.' _

            The A&P was bustling with the hubbub of mothers pushing carts with screaming children in the front trough, and teenage boys standing at the checkout, trying to get the cashier to believe that they were old enough to buy ciggies.  Ignorant fools.  I decided to stock up on food: Kraft Dinner, Alphagetties, Campbell's Tomato Soup, crackers and yogurt.  Oh, and chocolate, I needed a simple pleasure.  I could drink water, I wasn't destitute yet.  Yet.  

            I looked up from People magazine at the checkout to see how many people were behind me. 

            "Hello, Mandella." Startled, I jumped.

            "Cameron, you scared the hell out of my.  I swear that you must follow me here!  We must stop meeting like this!"  I hoped that my joking would shove off all suspicions of anything being wrong.  I was interrupted by the robotic voice of the cashier. 

            "27 dollars and 53 cents, please."  Damn those two dollars and 53 cents.  

            "Cameron, I really hate to ask this, but could you spot me three bucks?" I felt so wretchedly embarrassed.  He pulled a fiver out of his black jeans pocket and told me I could pay him back later. 

            "Thanks, Cameron, you're a life saver."

            "I know.  No problem.  Hey, are you alright, you know, with Michael leaving for Germany on Thursday and everything?" Cameron could tell that something was up, luckily he was wrong about what my problem was.

            "Oh, we broke it off.  It just wasn't working out."

            "Mandella, I'm sorry, I didn't know." God, if Cameron wasn't so obsessed with prissy Bianca, I probably could have fallen in love with his sweetness.  But no, that was never going to happen. I jammed the groceries into my knapsack and trudged home.  

            After I slammed the front door closed, locked it and chucked my groceries on the counter, I went over to the sink to wash my hands.  No water.

            _'I need a drink_

_            But the well has gone dry…'_

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A.N. well, so the story continues…only about two or three more chapters to go! Eek, how sad!  But I won't ever know how you feel about this story unless you leave a REVIEW! So go on, review…I know you want to *grins evilly*  


	8. Leave a message at the beep

**Traces of Scars- chapter eight: Leave a message at the beep**

**Author's note: **Well, I am back again after a LLLOOONNNGGG hiatus…but nonetheless I am finally back! This is the second last chapter…*tear*…thank you to ALL my reviewers, there are too many to name here, but an enormous THANK YOU**! ***WARNING***** this chapter's language is a lot coarser than the previous chapters, and the subject matter is a little stronger…this chapter is rated PG-13, instead of the usual rating… (actually, it might be drifting into the 'R' section…) but I hope that you will still read and enjoy this chapter, and do not dismay! For all those who enjoy angst, yes, some interesting happenings will occur that you will most likely fall in love with…for those who are more interested in 'fluff' there will be a sweet ending…but hopefully still one that satisfies the angsty folk (as I am one of those people…)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters…so sue me!

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I stormed down to the utility room in the basement of the apartment complex, looking for my last name on the status list of water.  Found it: 'Water Status: disconnected.'  Damn you, Norman.  

            My feet pounded on the stairs up to Norman's apartment, number three.

*Dingdongdingdongdingdongdingdongdingdong…*  I leaned against the doorframe with my shoulder pressing against the doorbell.  He opened the door wearing a cruddy white undershirt and plaid shorts.

            "Ah, Mandella, somehow I knew it was you pressing against the doorbell."

            "Norman, I have no water upstairs.  You said I had a week." I was positively infuriated!

            "No, no, no, I said you had a week until rent was due, I said nothing about utilites.  Of course, I could probably work something out.  But I'll need something in return."

            "What do you want, Norman?"

            "I think you already know," he said as he grabbed my sore wrist and pulled me into his apartment, holding me too firmly against his side of the front door.

            "No, stop, you asshole!" I screamed.  He hit me.

            "You'd think your whore of a mother would teach you how to use something like this to your own advantage," he said as he began to undo the zipper on those hideous plaid shorts.  I managed to get a good hold on his arm with my teeth.  The metallic taste of foreign blood marred my tongue.

            "Bitch!" he yelled and let go of me to nurse his arm.  With the few seconds I had bought, I was able to escape from his hellhole.  I ran up to my apartment faster than I had ever run in gym class (remember, I failed that class…) when I got inside I locked the door.  It wasn't long before I heard Norman's grubby fist pounding on my door.

            "I'm not finished with you!  Don't make me get my set of keys to get in!" I pushed the loveseat up against the door and picked  up the phone to dial 911.  No dial tone.  Damn, Norman would get in soon and there would be no way to stop him. I frantically looked for my cell phone to call someone, anyone.  I was expecting to hear Norman breaking down the door anytime, but there was silence.  Had he left, or was he sitting silently by my door like a spider, waiting for me, his prey to emerge and then he would pounce?  Silence.  I wasn't about to take any chances, so I went into the bathroom and locked myself in.  After I felt reasonably 'safe', I began to look for the cell phone.  In the midst of my search, I started to play back my answering machine messages.  There were two messages.

            _'Message one.  *BEEP* Mandella, this is Kat.  Look, I don't know why you left suddenly on Saturday night, but I have the feeling that I did something to piss you odd, or else you were really upset about the whole Michael thing.  But whatever, call me, or we should meet for lunch or something.  I want to see you before I leave.  I have something to tell you, but I can't say it here.  Please talk to me. *Click*'_

_            'Message two.  *BEEP* M-Mandella?  This is your aunt Lynn.  I have some explaining to do.  I would have liked to tell you all this in person, but this will have to do.  Your mother's and my grow-op got busted and they took all of our weed.  Your mother in rehab, since it was found in my house, and she will be there for at least 18 months.  I will be in community service and therapy while I do my time.  I realize that this will most likely come as a shock to you, but I had to do it this way.  Sorry for being blunt.  Don't try to contact your mother, she's in a bad state.  But I will try to call you again if there is any change. *click*'_

Wow.  Ok, two VERY interesting messages, but luckily no action from the beast called Norman.  But then I looked across the room, and there was a scribbled note shoved under the door.

            _'I know you're in there, bitch.  Don't try to hide.  I had a family emergency, so I am gone for a while, but when I get back, you had better steer clear or be ready to face to consequences for prancing your cute little skinny ass in my place.  Consider yourself warned.'    _

God, what the hell was I supposed to do?  I couldn't stay at home with no water for very long, all I had was the Brita pitcher full of water.  I would have to use that waterless soap for cleaning.  But I had to get out, because Norman would be coming back.  Mum wasn't coming back any time soon either…who could I stay with?  I couldn't stay with Mr. Stratford, he had too hectic of a lifestyle, and he never really liked me anyways.  Michael would be away in Munich, and I didn't want to ask Cameron for any more help, besides, he was staying with his uncle, and I couldn't impose on him…I would have to turn to the last person left, and I was dreading asking to stay with him: Patrick.

            Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I found the cell phone and dialled.

"Hello, Patrick?"

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A.N….OOH! Can we sense a plot twist?? Review and let me know what you think!


	9. The voice inside my head

**_Chapter Nine- the voice inside my head_**

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**Author's Note:** well, my pretties, this is the final chapter for 'Traces of Scars'…I really hoped that you enjoyed writing this story with me, as your input is VITAL to my writing process… I value each and every one of your reviews…in particular, I would like to thank…*drum-roll please*

Kristi

GothicFairyRaven

YourWinter06

Steelsings

MandELLA

The Nauti Dolphin

Neerah

You all have been rather faithful, and if I have forgotten anyone, I truly am sorry…your reviews also made my days seem sweeter…I hope that you all will like this ending, and I am hoping that it was different than you were expecting…please don't shoot me after you read it though! Just wait for the sequel…I have already had one request for a cameo (that will actually be turning into a bigger part…) and I can take about 3 more if you would like! Just review me and leave a short bio with a name (unless I can use your penname…if it makes sense) character description and whether you want to be good or bad.  *Sniff, I can't believe that this part of Mandella's story is ending!*

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters, but the plot is mine…I also don't own the song 'I Miss You' by Blink-182…but it IS an awesome number, eh? I know the song is before these character's time, but I just had to use it!

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**The Voice Inside My Head**

"Hello, Patrick?" I swallowed my pride and waited for his response.

"Mandella?  Is that you?  God I haven't talked to you in forever.  How are you doing?" 

"Patrick, listen, I don't know how to ask you this, but can I bunk at your place for a while, um…yeah, my mum is out visiting her…sister, and she wanted me to stay with someone, but everyone else is gone or indisposed.  It wouldn't be for long, but I just can't be in the apartment for awhile."

"Well, I dunno, Mandella, I was your last choice after all…but you can stay under one condition."

"What condition is that, Patrick?"

"That you'll translate 'Much Ado About Nothing' for me…I've been wanting to see the movie, but I can't decipher that decrepit language!"

"You pull a tough deal, but alright, it's settled.  I'm going to hop a taxi over to Kat's to say goodbye, and then could you maybe pick me up there?"

"Well…" he began

"Thanks!" I said hurriedly, I didn't want him to change his mind.  Not to mention that the batteries for the cell phone were running low.  

I stuffed some basic clothes, toiletries and books into my woven backpack and walked out the front door, locking it, although I don't know why I even bothered.  Once at the curb, I hailed a taxi without too much wasted time and told the abnormally hairy driver to take me to Kat's address.  Inside the taxi I rolled up my sleeve to look at my cut wounds.  They were beginning to heal over, but underneath I could still see vibrant pink lines that were slowly fading to white.    

I tipped the driver, who actually turned out to be a woman, and after a shudder crawled across my scalp after seeing her moustache I walked up the steps towards the Stratford house.  Ringing the doorbell, I peered into the front hall through the glazed windows.  The blurry images of suitcases in the hallways reminded me that the girls would be leaving.  

"Stratford Residence, Katerina Stratford at your service," said Kat as she gracefully opened the front door.  She then closed the door behind us with a slam.  

"Lets take a walk, shall we?" she said it more like it was a command than a question.  We began to walk down her placid road and it wasn't long before we came to small diner called "Susie Mae's Eats- come in and chow down!"  not exactly the classiest of establishments, but Kat seemed to think it was a good idea to enter the greasy dive and order a plate of curly fries.  It's really gross to watch people eat, but I waited for her to say whatever it was that she needed to tell me, or so she did in the message she left on my answering machine.

"So, what was it that you wanted to tell me before you headed off to Sarah Lawrence?" I asked her, almost timidly, but knowing me, I am not exactly the most timorous person…

"Funny you should ask.  This is where we used to eat on days when we skipped 4th period, Patrick and I.  Yepp, Pat and Kat.  Isn't that just too cute?  Well, actually, it's not cute anymore, Mandella, Pat and Kat is now Kat and Nobody Else.  That's right, I broke up with him.  I wanted to be free when I went to the east coast, and having Patrick around would tie me down to home.  Don't look like that Mandella, it's not like I broke the guy's heart or anything, he said it was fine, that he didn't want to do the long distance thing anyways, so don't look at me like I'm guilty."  She sighed, and I could tell that her speech was over.  I stood up and sat down beside her in the booth and I said

"Kat, you did the right thing.  Except that you reminded me that you are leaving me all alone with these hillbillies!"  She chortled and stood up, leaving her change on the counter.  I was still carrying my backpack, so I dug into a small pocket and fished out some change for a tip, even though I didn't order anything.  

We walked slowly back to her house, and in front of it sat a greenish hued truck.  Patrick.  

"Sorry, Kat, I have to go now, Patrick is giving me a ride. I promise to write you every week, if you promise to write back."  Kat nodded her head and held me close, I knew that she didn't want her voice to waver in front of me, in front of Patrick's truck, in front of anybody.  She walked through her front door and closed it gently. 

I climbed into the passenger seat of Patrick's truck and he turned the key in the ignition.  We chatted politely and friendly-like, but for the most part we just listened to his Blink 182 CD. 

'_Hello there_

_The angel from my nightmare_

_The shadow in the background of the morgue_

_The unsuspecting victim…'_

The music pulsed through and we both knew that we would miss Kat sorely.  The sun went down and we drove through McDonald's to eat.  By then I was feeling a bit peckish, so I grabbed a couple chicken McNuggets.  They are so chopped and formed…gross, but still, I knew I would pass out if I didn't eat.  

            As we stepped into Patrick's small split level I saw all the paintings that were lying around, unframed, on the floor. 

            "Where did you get all these?" I asked him

            "Friends gave them to me mostly, all those staving artist types, you know."  I smiled and sat down on his squashy but comfortable couch.  

            "So, do you feel like telling me why you're really staying here for awhile?" Before I knew it, I was telling him all about how mum had left and wouldn't be coming back for who knows how long, about Norman, about Michael.  I noticed that my head was lying across his chest and that my mascara had begun to run down my reddened cheeks.  His hand was stroking my hair, trying to sooth me.  His hands moved down to mine and he touched my wrist.

            "Patrick," my voice cracked as I tried to speak, to explain why there was a geography map of cuts and scars decorating my forearms.

            "Shh…" he whispered as his fingers stroked the wounds, and then his lips delicately danced upon them.  Kissing my hurts better.

            "But Kat," I started

            "Shh…" he interrupted softly as his lips moved to meet mine in a simple, sensitive, tender kiss.  His gentle actions revealed that he wanted to make all my hurts go away, he saw that my pain was beautiful, but he wanted to mend it and patch the scars on my heart. I tried to interrupt him, but once again he began to speak softly in my ear,

            "_don't__ waste your time on me you're already the voice inside my head."_ And I leaned my head on his chest as my wounds faded to mere traces of scars.

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A.N.  TADA! The end! I hope you all enjoyed it! Please review and tell me what you thought about the ending! And the pairings! And everything else! Also, check out my other '10 things" fiction called "The private diaries of Kat Stratford," kisses to you all!


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